


A Trail That Leads To You

by NowMakeThemKiss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Winchester and Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Mild Language, Wingfic, i.e. Dean Winchester levels of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 16:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11627439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NowMakeThemKiss/pseuds/NowMakeThemKiss
Summary: When Dean learns about angel personal grooming, he accidently learns about sharing feelings too.





	A Trail That Leads To You

**Author's Note:**

> All thanks for this fic go to Luna who was kind enough to donate to the Team Trashbrigade Gisholarship Fundraiser and silly enough to choose my writing as a perk.

The first time he found one, Dean didn't think anything of it at all.

He had just finished putting new wiper blades on Baby and was walking from the garage back towards the main living area of the bunker where Sam no doubt had something green on a plate with Dean's name on it. He probably would have missed the feather completely if he hadn't glanced down while shoving his phone into his back pocket. As it so happened he saw it, bent down and scooped it up. Passing his room on his way to the kitchen, he dropped it on his dresser.

Of course, what with trying to keep track of what the Brits were doing, fielding awkward calls from his mom and chasing down Lucifer's unborn spawn, Dean forgot about the feather completely. That is, until he found the second one.

Just as inky black and glossy as the first, it came fluttering out of the Impala's trunk while he was unloading it. He and Sam had been gone for days helping Cas chase down Kelly, and Dean was exhausted. He looked it over, gave it a good sniff which triggered a scent memory that he couldn't quite put his finger on, and made a mental note to ask Sam about it. Shoved in his duffel, it made its way to his room. This feather too was forgotten as Dean promptly crashed and slept for six hours straight with his boots on.

Five days later Cas showed up, road weary and in desperate need of a shower. Sam made sure there were clean towels in the closet while Dean constructed two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches using the raspberry preserves that Cas preferred, cutting them on the diagonal. When he heard Sam ending a phone call and the shower cut off down the hall, Dean popped the caps of three beers and set everything on the kitchen table.

An hour and a half later, they had talked themselves in too many circles discussing how to deal with Lucifer, and all three were ready to call it a night. Deciding to take a quick shower himself before hitting the sack, Dean tidied things up in the kitchen to give the others time to get ready for bed. A quick detour to his room, and he was headed for the bliss of perfect water pressure.  But one can justify using only so much hot water and Dean finished up as he was getting to the final chorus of Good Lovin' Gone Bad. It was while drying off and singing the final "yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah"s that he noticed something on the tiles below the row of towel hooks.

There, directly under the still damp towel that Cas had hung up no more than two hours earlier, was a third black feather. In Dean's head, half formed thoughts finally clicked. He shoved his arms into his robe, hastily knotted the belt, and carefully picked up the feather. Before his overactive imagination could skip too far astray to only the worst possible scenarios, he made his way quickly to Cas' room and knocked on the door with more force than he had intended.

Almost at the same time as a muffled "Come in" was heard through the door, Dean swung it open, eyes landing on Cas reading in bed. He stepped inside and cleared his throat, holding out the feather. The meager glow from the lamp on the bedside table caught its shine and there was no mistaking what he was gripping. "I found this in the bathroom."

Cas was bare chested and Dean spared a quick thought about whether he slept in the nude before he pulled the brakes on that idea completely. The angel placed his book on the table. "I'm sorry, I thought I had gotten them all. You can leave it there on the dresser."

Dean looked at Cas incredulously for several seconds until it became clear that there was no further explanation forthcoming. "What the hell is going on here, Cas? This isn't the first of these I've found and unless you've got a new pet I don't know about, you better start explaining."

"There's really nothing to worry about, Dean. It's merely been awhile since I spent any time with the Host and my celestial form isn't used to such an absence of attention. You don't need to be concerned, I have the situation well under control."

"So you're telling me this is from one of your wings but I'm not supposed to think the fact that I keep finding them all over the bunker is any reason to worry?" Dean realized there was no way he was getting through this night now without a headache.

Cas had the decency to at least look a little sheepish as he met Dean's eyes and muttered, "Yes?"

"Well that's just fucking great, Cas. You're falling apart and hiding it from me and don't seem to see a problem with that. Anything else you think I shouldn't know about?"

"I'll be fine. The molting process is supposed to only last a  couple of weeks. I was with my brothers the last time it happened and am merely having a little difficulty taking care of it on my own. While I appreciate your concern, I can handle this."

"So it's just an everyday angel thing?" Dean gingerly placed the feather on Cas' desk, "How many times have you, uh, gone through this whole molt business?" 

Cas didn't answer right away and seemed to be looking everywhere but at Dean. "This will be the second time."

Well wasn't this whole mess just getting better by the minute. Steeling himself for the whoknowswhat that lay ahead, Dean reached behind him to firmly shut the door. He gathered as much confidence as a man in nothing but his bathrobe could before proclaiming "Alright, tell me what to do and we'll get you all molted up."

Cas looked like a deer in headlights. "You can't."

"I can and I'm gonna. Now get your wings outta wherever it is you stick 'em when you aren't flitting around in Heaven and let's get this show on the road."

"Dean, it's not that easy. You don't know how to preen wings and... it would be odd to have them out in front of you anyway."

Dean rolled his eyes. "It would be awesome and you can tell me what to do. Come on, we both know how much you love bossing me around." He could tell Cas was still having a hard time getting on board with the idea. "Besides, it's my job. Family helps each other out." 

Time seemed to slow as silence grew, and Dean was determined not to be the one to fold. Finally, Cas broke what Dean could only imagine was supposed to be his intimidating stare by closing his eyes and huffing loudly.   "Fine," he conceded.

Dean clapped his hands and rubbed them together, "Where do we start?"

Cas pointed to the corner. "Just stand there out of the way and I'll manifest my wings. It will be easier to explain once you can see them."

"I'm not gonna have to pick little bugs out of them like a monkey or anything, am I?"

Cas instructed Dean to back up with a look that could only be described as withering. There was a distinct change in the thickness of the air within the small room.  Dean was struck by a heady scent like wet pavement after a rainstorm and a shiver ran from the base of his skull down his spine. With his mouth hanging open, he watched Cas bow his head and seem to will one of the most beautiful things Dean had ever seen into being. The pair were that shade of comic book black that shone nearly blue in the weak glare from the lamp. They reached toward the ceiling, stretching like limbs uncurled after a long drive and then floated gracefully downward to rest at Cas' sides. 

Swallowing heavily past a dry mouth, Dean's first attempt at speech was a bust. He cleared his throat and tried again, "That was pretty fucking cool, Cas."

Castiel visibly relaxed. "Okay. The process shouldn't be hard now that you can see what you have to work with."

Dean was having a little trouble getting his heart rate, among other things, under control as he mumbled to himself, "Oh, I think things might be getting harder than you think."

"What?" Cas looked at him in confusion. "It's fairly straightforward. Just get behind me and look for any feathers that seem out of place or damaged. Remove those that are broken and comb out any kinks."

"If we're going to be getting into kinks here, we should probably discuss safe words." Dean forced a laugh to hide his anxiousness as Cas shook his head in thinly veiled exasperation. 

Dean moved to get behind the angel, wondering how he managed to get himself into a position that brought him this close to his best friend in such an intimate way. It was hard enough hiding any stray feelings he might have developed over the years now that they were living together off and on in the bunker. Being trusted with Cas' wings was a whole new level of 'conceal, don't feel'.

The first hesitant touch of fingertips to feathers had Dean struggling to keep his breathing even. He began with gentle strokes along the left wing to determine which feathers were pitched the wrong way, fumbling with the few he found that needed coaxing back into place. Occasionally it was necessary to dig his calloused fingers in deeper to tug at a broken shaft that needed removing. Flattening and rearranging systematically, Dean was soon absorbed in the work,  steadily ignoring the way his heart clenched with every sigh and noise that Castiel emitted. Despite wanting the closeness to last forever, he forced himself to be efficient and soon pulled out what appeared to be the last of the damaged pieces. Dean noticed that he wasn't the only one breathing heavily at this point and broke the silence with a whispered, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Cas didn't answer right away, but sucked in a few shuddering breaths."I don't think you'd ever hurt me, Dean."

Seconds loomed like hours. "I don't want to. I've never wanted to. But I have." Dean stopped his work and pressed his forehead into the warm skin of Cas's back just above where his wings emerged. "I don't deserve all the chances you give me," he whispered into what little space still existed between them.

Wings shifted back to rest their weight along Dean's sides in a hesitant embrace. "You deserve all I can give you and more, Dean. I hope one day you'll realize how much you me-"

Cas's words were interrupted by the soft press of lips to his skin as Dean confessed to his body what he didn't yet have the courage to say to his face, "Not yet." 

Wings shifting, Cas turned to bring them face to face. "But why? So much happens so quickly in this life and I don't understand why we can't just speak plainly before we lose the chance."

"I'm no good right now, Cas. I'm trying to be, but..." he looked pointedly at the wall over the other man's shoulder, "you deserve more than what I have to give." As he took the first step toward the door the space between them began its crawl to unbearable, but Dean was determined not to fuck this up. It was too important and he wasn't ready to risk it all because of some errant feathers. He cleared his throat as he opened the door and broke the spell with a rough, "Don't let it get that bad again. Let me know when you need me."

The closing door was just loud enough to drown out Cas' whispered "I always need you." 

In the hallway, Dean stood with his hand on the doorknob, the metal warming in his grip a reminder that the clock was ticking. He could easily pretend that he hadn't heard Cas's words, but did he want to? And what did Cas even mean, he 'always needed Dean'? There were a lot of ways you could need someone and the odds of it being the same way Dean needed him seemed slim.

But he hadn't pulled away when Dean momentarily lost the battle that being with Cas, smelling him and touching him, had proven to be. He hadn't moved away, disgusted, or even sympathetic toward the poor human with his very human emotions and failings. 

In fact, he had turned toward Dean and tried to make him listen to reason and--fuck.

Giving himself no time to think, because apparently he was shit at thinking anyway, he turned the knob and once again pushed the door open. Cas was seated on the edge of the bed and, other than the way he loudly sniffed and palmed his eyes quickly, was just as Dean had left him. His wings hung limply at his sides, but his tan skin offered a welcome warmth in the stark room- and Dean was so tired of being cold.

He closed the door and the space between them in two breaths. Knelt on the hard floor in front of the angel in the third, and used the fourth to push out a rushed, "I always need you too.".

Cas looked at him with faux exasperation and placed his hands on either side of Dean's face. "I should smite you on principle."

Dean's face broke into a grin. He surged forward to press their lips together and replace the doubts he had spoken earlier with certainties. The kiss was a little sloppy, no small thanks to the fact that neither one of them could seem to stop smiling, but soon the rush of finally, finally letting go was replaced with the slow press and exploration of mouths that knew they had plenty of time. 

Dean pushed up from the floor to begin a slow crawl up Cas's body, the angel shuffling backward to move further onto the bed to accommodate him. Dean heard a sudden sound of strong wind and felt Cas's body shift a fraction lower to the mattress. He opened his eyes and pulled away from the tempting form beneath him. 

"Aw, man. Why'd you put 'em away?"

"Dean, don't you think we have enough unfamiliar ground to cover without adding the logistics of extra appendages?"

"Fair point, "Dean looked at Cas sternly, "But I want it to go on record that the wings are coming out again. And soon." 

Cas whispered, skeptically, "You like them?"

"Cas, we wouldn't be doing this right now if I didn't. I thought I was gonna blow with all the noises you were making earlier."

"You still can, you know.", Cas punctuated his words with a very deliberate thrust of his groin against Dean's stomach, "Blow, I mean."

"Oh my God," Dean groaned, "I can't believe you just said that and that I'm actually gonna do it."

******

 

The fourth time Dean found a feather, it had been placed gently on the pillow where Cas's head would have been resting if he'd still been in bed. Momentarily concerned, Dean sat up quickly, but noticed the accompanying note and grinned as he read the words: "Don't be alarmed. I'm not falling apart, I'm just getting us coffee." Dean snuggled back down under the covers, feather clutched to his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a bunch to sconesandtextingandmurder for making sure I dotted my i's and crossed my t's.


End file.
